


Abandonment of Self

by kaysaravia1



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: BAMF Kaneki, Immorality, Kaneki and Ayato become bffs, M/M, Not Beta Read, Tsukiyama Shuu is Trash, but it's not like that's news, cynical main character, he gets abused, irregular updates, poor baby, their shared interest is murdering for fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6804529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaysaravia1/pseuds/kaysaravia1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki's past has shaped him into who he is today. With a cynical outlook on life, he is much less soft hearted than he appears to be. When his only friend Hide convinces him to go on a date with the beautiful girl that goes to the coffee shop they frequent, he doesn't expect much to come out of it. He certainly never anticipated that his date was a ghoul.</p><p>Or, in which Kaneki gets turned into a ghoul and embraces his new nature and all that it entails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yellow_smiley_face](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_smiley_face/gifts).



> So this idea came to me when I realized what an utter lack of bad guy main characters there are in anime. Like, the main character gets new morally questionable abilities and he uses them for 'good,' and not that there's anything wrong with this, but it gets old. So Kaneki is gonna be a 'bad guy' in this. Constructive criticism is welcome, but if you decide to be a rude bitch in the comments I reserve the right to be a rude bitch right back.

The streets of Tokyo are quiet. They usually are at this time of day; when the sun has almost nearly set and everyone is rushing home in relative silence trying desperately not to draw attention to themselves. In a small apartment overlooking the streets resides a mother and child. 

On the surface, the family of two is rather average, nothing that particularly jumps out or sets them apart from anyone else. The father is absent, either having left the family or passed away.

The mother is one who never turns away someone in need, her sister most especially; kind and gentle, if a little overworked. Yet that is to be expected, caring for a child and managing the household alone,  _ what a wonderful hardworking woman _ . 

The child is a kind one, soft spoken and well mannered, with the same gentle nature as his mother. He is intelligent for his age,  _ he reads his father’s old books, isn’t he a diligent boy. _ This is what the outside world sees, those who are too absorbed in themselves or too indifferent or dimwitted to see beneath the display. This content facade is what the world sees.

The reality is somewhat darker. The mother is indeed the type to never turn away someone in need, yet she takes this beyond what is necessary. She neglects the needs of herself and her own child in favor of giving her much needed and hard earned money to a sister that in reality doesn’t need it at all, who will waste this remittance on frivolous luxuries for herself and her own family. 

The mother, in turn, must take on more part time jobs in order to support herself and her son, leaving her overworked and underpaid, yet still willingly giving her sister the money she  _ so desperately needs. _ She is unhappy with her current situation, supporting a child she isn’t sure she even wants anymore and working day and night in order to barely make ends meet. She takes out her misery on her son.

The boy is a quiet child, trained by his mother’s beatings and harsh words to be silent, to only speak when spoken to. He takes solace in books, spending the days in his room or his father’s study to avoid his mother as much as possible.

 

He is four years old, and his father has just left.  _ He died, _ they tell him, but at that age he cannot comprehend death.  _ He’s gone to a better place and isn’t coming back _ , they say, and he wishes his father well on his journey to this better place, but is silently resentful that his father thinks that there is a better place than here with his family. His mother weeps every day and doesn’t come until late.  _ I’m working to support us _ , she says, irritated, when he asks if she can come home sooner. 

 

He is five years old, and his mother begins to hit him out of anger. The first time it happens, he is pestering her to make his favorite hamburger for dinner that night. He did good on a math test at school, the only one to make an above average grade and he wants to celebrate. She says they’re short on money this month, so they’ll have to make due with regular steamed rice and salmon for the night. He complains that she had money to give to his  _ mean old aunt, why can’t she get her own money- _ but doesn’t have enough for them, for  _ him _ . 

She slaps him in annoyance, with more force than she probably intended. He flies into the wall head first and the skin near his right temple is split open and dripping blood into eye. He screams and cries and clutches his head as he bleeds onto his own clothing and the carpet below him. His mother lets out a horrified gasp and runs to him, crying and apologizing and saying it won’t happen again. Except it does.

 

The second time, he is still five, and he asks her for field trip money. The school is going to take them to a museum, but there’s a $10 entrance fee that the parents have to pay. He is hesitant to ask her anything after what happened last time. 

He loves his mother, truly, he does, but while he may be a child, he still hasn’t forgotten the feeling of the palm of her hand connecting with the side of his face or the agony in his head as he was made to bleed onto the floor, hasn’t forgotten her anger at a seemingly simple request. He had been secretly grateful when her work hours extend long into the night soon after the incident.

He approaches her cautiously, his voice so soft it was bordering on a whisper. She’s working from home that day and even though he doesn’t want to bother her while she’s working she’s always working and there really isn’t any other time to ask. She looks up with irritation and mild anger lacing her facial expression, a sight that had been directed at him more and more often, and his voice falters in the middle of the sentence.

He soldiers on, though, and manages to get through with his request and hands her the permission slip with shaky hands. Her face twists in disgust and his stomach feels heavy, but he really wants to go on this trip and  _ she won’t hit him again, she promised she wouldn’t, _ so he begs her to go. 

Something, although he wasn’t sure what, caused her anger to spill over and she reaches for the front of his shirt and yanks him towards her, lifts him up off the ground, brings her face inches away from his.  _ You think my hard earned money is for you to waste on unnecessary things like this?  _ she spits at him, shaking him like a rag doll; silent tears are streaming down his face and he wraps his small hands around the larger ones gripping his shirt. He stutters out apologies and kicks his little legs out as he desperately tries to get out of his mother’s hold and back down to solid ground. She yells words he can’t make out because he’s concentrating so hard on keeping silent but a few sobs manage to break through anyways. 

His mother throws him roughly to the ground and he curls in on himself, clutching the arm he had landed on. She takes hold of his arm in an iron grip, dragging him to his room so he can stay quiet and let her work in peace and tosses him in and locks the door from the outside. He goes to bed without dinner that night and doesn’t look his  _ kind and gentle mother _ in the eye for months after. 

 

It is the day before his sixth birthday that he decides to read one of the lengthy novels in his father’s study. He had always loved books, loved the escape they gave him, a way to leave his irritable mother and immerse himself in a world of dragons, or monsters, or valiant heroes who save the world. 

He had shied away from the larger books in the study at first, intimidated by their size and lengthy words, but he had put in effort to read the bigger ones at school until his reading level was above and beyond his fellow classmates, something that only added to their envy of him and left him alone more often than not. He didn’t mind. He didn’t need anyone if they couldn’t help him, if they  _ couldn’t even notice _ that his home life was greatly below the ideal. He didn’t need such unobservant people in his life, it didn’t matter that they were only children like him.

He read these books, slowly but steadily making his way through his father’s study and consequently feeling closer to his father than he ever did. He dreams at night, in the dark of his room, that his father will come and take him to whatever better place he had gone to. He wonders if being dead like his father will make things better. He isn’t completely sure on what death exactly is, but he knows it is something along the lines of going away forever, and he’s fine with that. He dreams of his father rescuing him from his mother like the heroes in the books, of leaving and never returning to this awful place he lives in  _ it hasn’t been his home in years. _

 

He is seven and a half and he is covered in cuts and bruises and fractured bones - _ mental scars that will never heal- _ in unnoticeable areas and he knows his father is never coming back. He understands what death is now, but he never stops wishing for it.

 

He is eight when he makes his first friend. Hide is nice, if a little too loud and excitable for his tastes, always seeming to have a smile on his face. The boy had been surprised when he had been approached out of nowhere and asked for his friendship. He had never had a friend before, didn’t know how he should comport himself around one, so he kept silent while Hide kept up a steady stream of chatter for the both of them.

Eventually, he begins to place his own input into the conversation. Minor things, though. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to open up to anyone, not after he had been so thoroughly betrayed by his own blood. He gives just enough to keep up their friendship, to make it seem as though there are no secrets between them. He likes Hide, he truly does, but he cannot let him in.

So he doesn’t.

 

He is nine when he begins to comprehend his true emotions for his mother; resentment of to the point of dislike. He does not mind this revelation.

 

He is ten, and he is standing in the middle of a foyer surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces. His suit is stifling, all the body heat surrounding him making him sweat. People approach him and give their condolences, but even in his young - _ so very young- _ age, he can tell their words mean nothing. They won’t do anything to help him, so they are irrelevant.

He looks to the side of the room, to the casket where his mother lays. She is made up in neutral makeup, in a simple white dress to match her  _ oh so pure heart. _ Her face looks peaceful, and a strange feeling wells up inside him as he sees this. Perhaps it is contempt? Scorn? Who knows. 

He feels the throb of his latest bruises on his skin and fragmented bone underneath his formal clothing, feels the last remnants of his mother on his body. He looks away from her face when he hears his disgusting aunt claim that she will take him in since she  _ caused so much trouble, it’s just the least I could do, I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart not at all because I want to impress all of the people here with my generosity. _ He feels a sneer tugging on his face and he turns back to his mother.

He walks towards her, that same feeling as before bubbling up inside him even greater than before. And he knows what it is. It is a mixture of two emotions, he realizes. As he looks into his mother’s face, takes in her familiar features, he feels unbridled hatred. He acknowledges the fact that he never truly loved his mother, or, if he did, he has not in many years. 

The other one is a bit puzzling, considering he has never truly experienced this emotion to such a staggering degree, only in minor doses, and even those were fleeting. But as he set his eyes on his mother’s lifeless corpse, as he realizes that after this day he will never see his dearly departed mother ever again, he feels pure, unrestrained happiness. Perhaps he will ask death to wait for him a while longer.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaneki goes on a date, has a great time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's been a while, huh. I would apologize for my incredibly long absence, but this will probably happen again eventually so it's just something we're all going to have to deal with.   
> Anyway.   
> Just as a heads up, in my story, Kaneki isn't the little ball of fluff and innocence like in the manga. Imagine him as that angry quiet guy that always sits in the back and never talks but still does really well on school work. I'll elaborate more in the next chapter, which will be the years he lived with his aunt and how he deviates from canon Kaneki.

_ Be the person that gets hurt, rather than one who hurts others. _

This is the kind of hypocritical bullshit advice his mother constantly spewed from her mouth. She was always hung up on the image she had forged for herself; a caring widow that was always willing to help out anyone who asked. 

Perhaps she thought that the image was much more important than her own well being that she allowed herself to live in practical squalor while her sister took her money. As though she could afford to give her monthly earnings away when she had to support her own child. 

The way she said the phrase was as if it was some grand philosophy that she expected him to take up and follow, as if she followed it in between the beatings she dished out. 

It made him think that perhaps she was trying to prevent him from seeking revenge on her for what she did to him. She had seen the expressions of rage he had blatantly aimed towards her out of the corner of her eye, so perhaps she was trying to save her own skin. It wouldn’t surprise him. 

Every time that phrase popped up in his head, he felt furious resentment build up inside of him, just like whenever he recalled any memories of his deplorable mother. As if he would ever allow anyone to hurt him without retribution ever again. He didn’t want to end up like his mother.

He was through being a convenient stress relief and he was through with placidly taking the hits without giving something back. Whatever anyone tried, he would pay them back twice over.

This was his philosophy in life.

___

“C’mon Kaneki! It's just one date. It'll be good for you, ya damn shut in! You haven't gone out in ages! And Sakura's birthday party doesn't count if you only stayed for two hours. And it was like two months ago. I met her at the store when I was getting that book signed for your birthday. See? Something in common. Give this girl a chance, she's  _ really _ pretty and also super into you. Well, those pictures I showed her of you. The ones you didn't know I took in secret at Sakura’s party. Hey, don't look at me like that, you looked super nice that day. In a totally no homo way. But seriously...”

Kaneki watches in habitual silence as his friend Hide continues to ramble on and make a fool out of himself. He knows his face is screwed up into a scowl at the mention of his lack of a bustling social life, but in all honesty he hasn't and probably never will find people that interesting. 

The only reason he went to that girl's party was because she had cake. A foolish thing to go out of his way for, but his current living situation doesn't allow for luxuries very often, and cake will forever be one of his few weaknesses.

He had avoided the intrusive girl as much as possible while he was there and left as soon as he could without making it seem as though he didn't want to be there. But of course Hide noticed. He always does. 

In all honesty, the thought of going out on a date with a stranger repulses him. Not only will he be forced to make awkward conversation and use his limited funds to pay for this girl's meal, but he’ll be expected to give out information on his own life. Give out his opinions and little anecdotes to amuse her. Sit there in near agony, trying to resist the temptation to check the time once again as he dreams of his books and his bed. 

Wow, that got really vivid. But this is just further proof of the fact that he should never go on a date. 

“Kaneki, are you even listening to me? C’mon man, it's just this once, and if you end up having a horrible time then you never have to end up going out with her again, promise.”

“You know I don't like new people, Hide.”

“I know, but just give her a chance, alright? Just this once. Do it for me, man, please?” Hide widens his eyes and puts on the most pathetic face he can manage, knowing Kaneki is weak to it. But not today. Today will be the first time in history that he’ll resist that face. There’s no way in hell he’s going on that date, especially when he knows it’s going to be awful. No fucking way. 

___

The silence that surrounds Kaneki Ken and his table mate is heavy and awkward. 

It's moments like these that leave Kaneki questioning his friendship with Hide. Honestly, this has to be one of the worst ideas to ‘get him out of his shell’ that he's ever come up with. 

Sitting across the girl he actually recognizes as a regular in the coffee shop he frequents often -  _ Rize _ , she had simpered, bringing her elbows closer together to show off her ample cleavage- Kaneki does his best not to fidget in his seat, searching for something to talk about while they wait for the food to arrive. Luckily she hadn't ordered anything expensive, so that earned her a few points. 

He had inadvertently shut down any of Rize’s previous conversation topics, but while he likes the quiet he can't really take this tension in the room. He looks around the small bookstore cafe for a burst of inspiration, the knowledge that this is, in fact, the worst date they've both been on ever present in his mind. They're both sipping their coffees  _ this is so awkward  _ and it's something to do.

His gaze lands on a display advertising a signing of Takatsuki Sen’s new book, and he nearly smacks himself when he realizes they can talk about  _ books _ . God, this was -  _ is -  _ such an awful idea _. _

_ “ _ So,” he starts out, perhaps a bit  _ too _ loudly, watches as she jumps and widens her eyes at the sudden sound. He feels distant amusement curl at the sight. A forces a genuine looking apologetic grin onto his face, one of the many facial expressions he’s been practicing in the mirror, and continues.

“What’s your favorite part of  _ The Black Goat’s Egg _ ?” He sees Rize’s face light up at the topic of conversation, and considers it something approaching a success. Their food arrives and he digs in, starving since he had missed breakfast that morning. 

He notices that Rize doesn’t really touch her food and irritation bubbles inside of him, seeing as how he’s paying for it. They manage to converse about books for a few hours, ordering another coffee for them both _ that he also pays for because this is a fucking date even if it’s an awful one  _ and then it’s finally getting dark outside and they decide that they should probably go home. He asks for the check and pays with his card, pulling out his pen to sign the receipt. 

As they walk, Kaneki looks at Rize out of the corner of his eye. She has the appearance of someone who’s anticipating something, and he doesn't know what to make of that. He really hopes she isn't expecting him to put out or anything. He just wants to go home. 

They soon reached the intersection and they look to each other to say their goodbyes and Kaneki feels a surge of relief at the thought of this day finally being over and done with.

“Thank you for accompanying me today, Miss Rize, and for putting up with my awkward conversation making.” He puts on a self-depreciating smile and hopes this ends quickly.

“Not at all, it was my pleasure. I enjoyed myself,” she lies through her teeth.  He can see it in her eyes. She has this look of impatience, which is strange considering she was the one who wanted to go on a date in the first place. 

Just as he’s about to say his goodbyes and get the fuck out of there, she reaches for his jacket sleeve and puts on this air of nervousness. 

“Actually, umm, before you go...I have a favor to ask you…” 

Noooo, he just wants to go home, now he's stuck with her longer than he has to be. What does she even want? 

“What is it?” He puts on a disarming smile in the hopes of her getting this over with quickly. 

“Well, lately there have been these ghoul murders, and last week there was one really close to my house, and I would just feel safer if you walked me home.”

What does this bitch think he's going to be able to do if a fucking ghoul attacks them? Does she think that just because he knows martial arts that he can stand up against someone who outclasses him in nearly every way? Or that he's going to risk his life for her if the worst happens? This is why he hates people. All these expectations. Ugh, but if he doesn't walk her home then she might tell Hide and he’ll never hear the end of it. The things he does for their friendship. 

“Of course I don't mind, I would hate if something were to happen to you without anyone being there to help you out.” Hopefully she didn't live too far away from here and he could just go home and sleep. 

He motions for her to lead the way and they make somewhat stilted conversation on the way. He is somewhat taken aback when they stop near a construction site. What the hell are they doing here?

“Kaneki, thank you so much for walking me here,” she turns to him and places a hand on his shoulder, smiling up at him as though she can't feel him tense up at her touch. 

“Not a problem, but do you really live here?” He gestures to the construction site at his right and puts on a mildly teasing face. 

“Oh! Haha oh no, not at all!” Her face breaks out into a grin and for some reason he tenses up further, it puts him on edge and he grabs hold of the pen in his pocket just in case. His instincts tell him something is off about this. 

“You see, Kaneki, I only bring very special people here. People I like, and I,” she leans in, whispering in his ear, and he is beyond uncomfortable, “happen to like you quite a bit. Do you like me?” 

No, no he does not like her one bit. This whole situation is making his nerves go through the roof, something is very wrong here but he can't figure out what. 

He grabs hold of her arms and pulls her off of him. He just wants to get the fuck out of here. She looks put out, and just angry enough that he's a bit concerned about what she might try to do. 

“Look, Rize,” he starts out with a bit of an apologetic smile, “I had a good time tonight, but you seem to be moving a bit too fast for just having met this morning. I would like to get to know you better, though, if that's alright with you.” 

There. That should be enough. Now all he has to do is wait for her response and then he can leave her and this awful situation and never see Rize ever again. He's willing to try out new cafes, he only went to Anteiku in the first place was because it was closest to his apartment. 

“I’m sorry Kaneki, but I can't wait,” she breathes out, and as a demented smile rips across her face Kaneki feels the greatest urge to  _ run, “ _ I just have to know what you taste like!”

She puts her hands on the side of her face as strange sanguine tentacle things burst out of her back and her eyes turn black and red and he just goes on instinct. 

He punches her in the fucking face.

She stumbles back, shocked; she wasn't seeming to expect that so he takes advantage of her pause and kicks her in the stomach as hard as he can manage and then knees in her face when she's bent over, not worried whatsoever about holding himself back. She falls to her knees, blood dripping down her face and choking on her own spit, the twist of her mouth remaining firmly in place. 

He manages to dodge one of those things coming towards him and he runs. He runs and runs and her crazed laughter follows him  _ and he knows that she'll probably catch him but he has to try  _ and he's almost passed the site before he feels something pierce his lower abdomen. 

“Fuck!”

He cries out through gritted teeth and feels it dig into his skin and come out through his stomach. The tip hooks and the tentacle pulls back and he screams, screams past the blood bubbling up his throat in  _ pain anger fear _ as he’s dragged across the concrete. 

Rize uses her tentacle to pull him up to eye level and he snarls at the self satisfied face she makes. She reaches out a finger and digs it into the wound and he squirms and  _ howls _ through gritted teeth. When she's done, and it feels like a lifetime when she is, she brings her bloody finger to her lips and lets out an obscene moan as she tastes the liquid. He feels like he’s going to vomit. He clenches his fists tighter and remembers the pen. 

“You taste as good as I thought you would Kaneki~ Let me scramble your insides.” She has a euphoric expression and her remaining fucking tentacles poised to strike, and he decides he can't waste any more time. He brings out the pen and jabs it as swiftly and as deep into her right eye as he can manage, which he knows is at least 3 inches deep and probably hitting her brain, and he feels satisfaction run through him as she absolutely wails. 

He doesn't feel so satisfied when she flings him twenty feet away, the thing slipping out of his stomach as his body cuts through the air. 

Kaneki crashes into a metal fence, the wind knocks out of his lungs and he knows he’s at least broken a few ribs. Fire runs through his wound and for a few seconds his sight goes black. 

He is left bleeding and gasping on the ground, trying and failing to get air into his lungs, and through watery eyes he can see that she's coming towards him, and he desperately wants to get away but he can't seem to summon the strength to do anything but stop himself from bleeding out. It looks like he's going to die here. How...dull. It looks like Death has finally come to collect. 

Rize stops a few feet in front of him and she is no longer smiling. It seems she pulled out the pen from her eye, and he can see blood pouring down the side of her face. He knows she'll heal eventually, ghouls are hardy creatures, after all, but he likes that he caused her such discomfort. 

She opens her mouth to speak but is soon interrupted by a loud creaking and groaning. She looks around and finds nothing, but when she looks up she sees support beams swinging in the wind. She shrugs it off, not concerned in the slightest, and turns back to him. 

“You know-” she stops mid sentence as a loud snap is heard, and looks up just in time to see the beams falling down towards them quickly. 

“What-!”

The beams crash down on them and Kaneki is lucky enough to only get pinned down and not crushed  _ although his bones don't feel so grateful _ , but it seems Rize isn't so lucky. He rasps out a laugh as he hears her gurgle and struggle, but he can't help but think she deserves so much more pain than this. 

As his eyes droop and start to close his last thought was that he was right. This date was _ fucking awful.  _


End file.
